


a very good plan

by liginamite



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (implied), Riding, bofur helps him out, nori has a Dark Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liginamite/pseuds/liginamite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nori has something of a hard time sleeping easily when he spent years always on edge during his time as a thief, waiting for an ambush. Bofur devises a plan to help him. </p><p>It involves sex, naturally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a very good plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jokerswild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokerswild/gifts), [avi17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avi17/gifts).



> i'm a goddamn porn dealer. people throw porn ideas at me and i write them. sorry mom and dad.

Every once in a while, Bofur finds himself having to work late in the mines. It’s not something that he doesn’t appreciate, as returning to his profession after the harrowing length of the quest is almost like a call to home. But it still means that occasionally he has to sneak into his own home to avoid waking a bed partner he, if he’s to be honest, had never expected to have. Nori’s a terribly light sleeper, and when Bofur tiptoes into their room he can make out the lump that means he’s already gone to bed. 

It must be very late for Nori to have gone to bed without him, Bofur thinks, and sighs as quietly as he can. His eyelids are heavy with the work of the day, and sleep sounds terrific. He flops down onto the bed, reaching down to tug his boots off, and the downy mattress jumps a little with his motions.

A hand grabs him by the scruff of his coat, jerking him back and around and then shoving him forward. Before he can really process the situation he’s arse over teakettle, back to the floor with a shiny knife to his throat and a thick weight settled on his chest. Fear grips his chest tight and he struggles with a sharp yelp, trying to fight away the mass that has him pinned to the floor, but then a soft braid brushes against his forehead and he freezes.

“Nori,” he says out loud, and Nori hisses, leaning in closer until there’s a line of pain drawn against Bofur’s neck, but it’s lost in another attempt to reach out to his companion. “Nori, hey. It’s me.” 

He’s still breathing hard, still pressing the knife to Bofur’s throat, but some of the… fear? seems to have dissipated at the tone. With a care, Bofur pushes the knife away from his throat by Nori’s hand wrapped around the handle. It goes willingly, but Bofur can still see the dwindling panic in the shine of Nori’s eyes and the way his breaths are still short and concentrated. So he moves slowly, wriggling his hips until he can sit upright and touches a careful hand to Nori’s cheek.

“Nori?”

Something about the touch and the sound of his name breaks the spell, and Nori blinks. The awareness returned to his eyes in that single movement, and Bofur can see him taking in the situation with that sharp understanding he’s wielded since they first met.

“...sorry,” Nori finally says out loud, and there’s something like dread in his tone masked by forced nonchalance. “I’m--yeah, sorry about that.”

Running a hand over the skin of his throat, Bofur nods. When he takes his hand away again, there’s a smear of blood across his fingertips; not enough to be even lose to lethal, and when he swipes at it again, it’s already stopped bleeding. He imagines there’s a thin red line on his neck, judging by the way Nori’s eyes flick down to the spot and he tenses again, but the day Nori admits to his faults is the day Bofur tosses his hat off the mountain and shaves himself bald.

They both get up slowly, Nori reaching with both hands to tug Bofur up by his coat. He starts brushing him off, keeping his head down, and the motions are so very much like Dori when he’s thinking too hard that it gives a lot more away than Bofur knows Nori wants it to. Still, Bofur lets him, knowing that he needs to take control of the situation to feel better about it.

“Bad dreams?” he tries to ask innocently, and Nori’s eyes flick up to him. With a sniff and another sharp tug of Bofur’s coat, he’s making his way back to the bed. All of his beard braids are out and hanging down to his waistband, which is a fair improvement from the first few weeks, when he had been more or less fully prepared to dart out of the room should the need arise. But he still looks tense, and his answer verifies that. 

“I’m fine.” 

Another soft hum accompanies him as Bofur starts to tug off his boots again, thinking hard. He watches Nori climb back into their bed from underneath the brim of his hat, pulling the covers up to his ears and sliding the knife back under his pillow. It’s not as unsettling as it had been at first, more of a recurrence that he’s become used to.

He knows what it’s about. It’s nothing to do with Bofur, necessarily, something he figured out long ago. It’s merely a byproduct of who Nori was before the quest; spending all of his time waiting for an ambush, or arrest, or probably a combination of both. Even if the pickpocketing is gone (mostly) and the sneaking around is gone (mostly), Bofur knows better than anyone that there are some things you can never really run away from when it comes to the mind. 

“If you’re sure.” 

Bofur tugs his coat off and then tunic, stripping down until he can pull his sleepwear on and crawl under the covers too. He can see the glint of gray from the bed watching every motion, and he knows that Nori’s muscles are still tense with anxiety brought on by Bofur’s sudden appearance. Still, he touches Nori’s shoulder and waits for the affirmative nod before pulling him in close and pressing his face to the curve of Nori’s neck. Nori had needed a lot of time to warm up to the idea of cuddling and intimacy, but now he scoots himself back a little until they’re shaped around each other. He still huffs into the arm he has tucked beneath his head, but into the darkness he says quietly, 

“Sorry.”

Bofur hums against the skin pressed to his lips, nuzzling a little closer. Nori allows the closeness, and Bofur listens to the soft thudding of his heart until his breathing evens out. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but he wonders how he could make it the last.

It’s not until the following morning, when they end up lazily rubbing against each other and afterwards that Nori’s lightly dozing into his shoulder that an idea slowly starts to form in Bofur’s mind. He brushes a length of hair out of Nori’s face, observes the little crease that’s still there between his eyes, and carefully as possible presses his lips to it. 

Perhaps he can have him rid of it for good.

 

A few nights later, Bofur slips home a little earlier than usual from the mines. Nori’s still getting undressed for bed when he looks up, surprise blooming across his face. He straightens up from where he had been unlacing his trousers, and Bofur beams at him.

“Hullo,” he chirps, and toes his boats off. “Glad I caught you! I wanted to have a talk.”

The happy little grin that had started to form on Nori slides off near instantly, and Bofur sees the way that his gaze shifts to the healing line still across the length of Bofur’s throat. Bofur knows that Nori still feels ashamed of his actions, and that he’s certainly afraid of doing it again, but it’s not what Bofur wants to talk about now. So instead he just sneaks closer, knowing that Nori probably doesn’t want to be coddled, and instead says out loud, “I had an idea to make you sleep easier at night, if you’re inclined to try it.”

One eyebrow inches up. “And that would be…?”

Bofur shrugs, grinning cheerfully, and tugs off his jacket. Nori’s eyes follow his movements, confusion writ on his face. His eyes keep flicking back towards the line on Bofur’s neck, as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop so that he can probably sleep on the loveseat in their little living room instead. Bofur’s never been one for that kind of thing though, and he just continues on with his explanation.

“We just need to wear you out, is all,” he explains, and Nori blinks, stunned enough that he lets Bofur push him onto their bed. “So that you’ll sleep better.”

Nori’s staring up at him, that crease forming between his eyebrows again. Bofur smiles widely and winks once before he rubs their noses together, pressing a light kiss to his lips. His free hand presses against Nori’s chest, slowly trailing downwards until the message is made clear.

“You’re going to…” Nori trails off, tilts his head in half confusion, half amusement. “...fuck me into sleeping soundly? Is that it?”

Bofur nods cheerfully.

“Aye.” 

Nori harrumphs thoughtfully, his shoulders jerking once. “Well, I can’t say I’m against it.” Bofur raises his eyebrows, his lips curled up into a smile when he sees the decision in Nori’s eyes, and sure enough Nori leans back with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Get to it, then,” he says casually, and Bofur nearly rolls his eyes. 

He clambers up onto Nori’s lap and kisses him again, laughing when Nori presses up against him with unrestrained delight. It’s not often that Bofur gets him out of that carefully constructed mask he puts on every day, but in the safety of their room, away from the rest of the world, Bofur can take it apart piece by piece. 

They kiss for a while like that, switching between lazy pecks and deeper swipes, Nori kneading Bofur’s arse with thick fingers. Eventually Nori’s hands find their way to Bofur’s braids, running through the plaits until his hair runs free and Nori can grab handfuls of it, twining it around his fingers and tugging. Bofur moans into his mouth at that, and without preamble shoves him down. 

Nori’s trousers are tugged down before Bofur’s even gotten his tunic off, but somehow between their kissing Nori’s nimble fingers manage to get him undressed as well, until hot skin is pressing against hot skin. They’re both already interested from all the kissing, and Bofur has to pull himself away to think straight. He’s sitting atop Nori’s lap, his legs spread over his hips while Nori reclines against their pillows, seeming perfectly at ease. Bofur sighs happily and leans forward.

“Your choice,” he says, knocking their foreheads together, and Nori grins up at him. It’s sharp and knowing, and he drags Bofur back down for a kiss again. 

“You,” is what he says, and Bofur can taste the smirk. “You can ride me, we’ll see how that works.”

A thrum of excitement races up Bofur’s back in the form of a shiver, and he grins back. Somehow he fumbles around and finds their little vial of oil, coating his fingers in it while Nori watches on appreciatively. It’s a dance they’ve done before, and he rubs them together to warm it up. Nori’s fingers wrap around his wrist to guide them, and Bofur lets loose a long, slow sigh as he breaches himself with Nori’s guidance. 

The burn and the stretch is good and familiar, something that they’ve done so many times before and even if it’s not Nori doing it, it’s Nori’s eyes, staring him down, that somehow makes it even better. Soon enough he’s sinking down slowly into Nori’s lap, feeling the fullness and groaning happily. A very good plan, indeed. 

He leans down and rolls his hips once, experimentally. 

“Hmm?” Bofur can hear how breathless he is, and Nori’s own sharp inhale is loud in the bedroom. He leans forward again to press their lips together, hands finding where Nori’s hair is still soft and twining it around his fingers. Nori doesn’t let just anyone touch his hair, let alone mess it up, and Bofur feels the privilege like a spreading warmth in his chest. He shifts his hips again and the motion shifts Nori deeper into his own body. They both gasp, breaths shared in the tiny space between their lips. 

Nori’s fingers are grasping at his hips, hard enough that Bofur knows there are going to be bruises later. They’re sharing breaths as they move together, chests pressed together hard enough that Bofur can feel Nori’s heart thumping against his skin. Every stab of Nori’s cock inside of him rubs against his prostate, sending sparks up his spine that has him moaning into Nori’s mouth. 

“I like your plan,” Nori says breathlessly, his eyes dark and hooded. His hands are still tugging at Bofur’s hair, keeping him close as he thrusts his hips upwards. The slap of skin gets louder in the room with each movement, and the look in Nori’s eyes holds all of Bofur’s attention. “It’s a good plan. Very thorough.”

“Mm.” Bofur’s eyes flicker closed, the base of his spine tightening. He nuzzles his cheek against Nori’s, only his arms on either side of Nori’s chest keeping him propped up at this point. He’s buzzing all over, barely able to breathe around the moans bubbling up out of his chest. From underneath him, Nori chuckles breathlessly and there’s a sharp sting in Bofur’s scalp when Nori suddenly tugs at his hair again, hands leaving his hips.

Their mouths crash together as Nori suddenly comes, burying the cry into Bofur’s mouth as his hips piston wildly against Bofur’s arse. Warmth blooms deep inside of him as Nori comes, keeping Bofur pressed against him by his hair as he shudders his way through his orgasm. One hand leaves his hair to snake between them, finding where Bofur’s cock is still hard and leaking. 

“Oh,” Bofur breathes, and then again, thread snapping suddenly. “Oh, _oh_ , Nori, I--” 

He can hear Nori chuckling somewhere through the buzzing in his ears as he comes down slowly, and when he opens his eyes again, Nori is staring up at him warmly. His hands make their way back to Bofur’s hips, the one still wet and sticky from Bofur’s release. 

Bofur sighs, his face tilted to the ceiling, feeling the way he clenches around Nori’s cock with the rhythmic spasms of post-orgasm. Nori, devious little bastard that he is, nudges his hips up so that Bofur hisses, hands coming down to brace himself against Nori’s chest.

With another grin, Nori makes like he’s going to reach up and tug Bofur down for a kiss, but Bofur twists away from his wandering hands, a smile of his own creeping onto his face. There’s something like hurt that flashes in Nori’s eyes, just for a second before he can taper it back down. To make up for the denial, Bofur shifts himself where he feels Nori softening inside of him and presses a quick kiss to Nori’s palm.

“Nope. Not done,” Bofur says curtly, and something like bewilderment crosses over Nori’s flushed face.

“Not done,” he repeats incredulously, and Bofur nods.

“Nope.” He wriggles, letting Nori’s cock slip out of him and feeling the slow drip of his release down the backs of his thighs. It’s an arousing feeling, one that has interest stirring in the pit of his stomach again, and he leans down to press lips together. He speaks between gentle, deep kisses that have Nori moaning beneath him. “I’m far from done with you, yet.” 

“I’m hardly eighty.” Nori sounds amused now. “Can’t get it up that fast.”

“Oh, I’m willing to try,” Bofur replies mischievously, and trails his lips down to that space behind Nori’s ear that sets him to shivering like he’s trapped in a snowstorm. His nerves are already alight from his first orgasm, and all the gentle kisses have him gasping again in no time. Bofur feels hands trailing down the length of his back, a light touch down the bumps of his spine that make him gasp against the skin against his mouth. Soon enough they’re rutting together once more, sliding against each other and huffing out moans and whimpers. 

Bofur reaches down, finds where Nori’s hard and hot again and grips him in hand; the noise that Nori makes in response is nothing short of strangled. He lurches up then, hooking one arm around Bofur’s neck and kissing him furiously, his legs opening wider to give Bofur more room. Bofur lets him move him as he pleases, tugging him backwards while still furiously pressing kiss after kiss against his lips until his back is against the headboard and Bofur’s all but sitting on his lap. Their cocks rub together as they settle and Bofur nearly cracks his forehead off the wall next to Nori’s head as overstimulation races up his spine. He manages to push himself off the wall and stays like that, his legs spread over Nori’s lap. 

It works, Bofur bracing himself against the wall as he grinds his hips and lets Nori do most of the leading. Teeth close around one of his nipples and he hisses, nearly losing his grip on the wall in shock. All of him is still vibrating from his first orgasm and every touch is almost too much to handle.

“Oh, hell,” Nori breathes suddenly, and his free hand finds Bofur’s cheek. It’s such an oddly intimate moment that Bofur feels his chest tighten with affection. “You’re incredible, you know that?” 

Bofur looks down at him, eyes widening. It’s as close to a love declaration as Bofur knows they’re ever going to get. The sincerity in Nori’s eyes is absolute, his touch still soft against Bofur’s cheek. Slowly he trails his fingers down the angle of Bofur’s jaw, his fingers finding the thin, scabbed line he drew the other night. If he has any thoughts on it, he doesn’t voice them out loud, only moves his other hand faster, twists his wrist in a sharp motion that has Bofur yelping in shock. 

The moment is broken, even if it’s burned into Bofur’s memory forever, and only a couple hard pumps have him coming again. It’s intense, but less so than the first one had been. It’s more of a burn that travels lazy and thick from between his legs all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes, leaving him slumped against Nori and sighing in contentment. 

“Mmm, that was quite a show, love,” Nori mutters into his ear, sounding pleased with himself. The endearment is a rare one, a special treat, and Bofur hums happily before pushing himself up and pecking Nori once. With one hand he reaches between them, hissing when Nori runs the backs of his fingers against his cock until he can grasp at Nori’s. He greatly enjoys the way that Nori’s eyes roll back and flutter closed at the touch, head tilting against the wall as he shudders. 

Bofur watches every nuance that flashes across his face, the way his eyebrows knit and a line forms above his nose, how he bites his lip and then the way his mouth drops open and his cries come out as short, jerky little things that sound almost musical to Bofur’s ears when he comes. It’s such a lovely thing, something so private and intimate. Nori lets him have this, gives it to him freely, and Bofur drinks in every second of it until he’s done.

Lazily, Bofur kisses him when he’s done, enjoying the soft noises he still makes as they slowly shift to lay down on the bed. They’re both sweaty and sticky, come on their stomachs and hair tangled beyond reasoning with, but very, very satisfied with how the night has turned out. 

A few minutes of gentle panting and soft kisses finally find Bofur toddling towards the washroom to wet a thick towel in the basin. He wipes himself off first, nose prickling with pain when some of the dried come sticks to the hairs on his stomach, and feels more than a little dirty when he has to swipe between his arse and down the length of his legs. Still, it’s nice to be clean, and he grabs another towel for Nori as well. 

When he walks back out, he can’t help but grin.

Nori’s sprawled out on the bed, snoring gently into his own bicep where he has his arms held up over his head. He looks peaceful, no creases between his eyes or a tenseness to his limbs. He’s relaxed, more than Bofur has ever seen him before, and he thinks proudly that his plan worked perfect.

He takes his time, runs the towel over Nori’s stomach and between his legs without so much as a sniffle from his sleeping partner. It’s a little selfish, perhaps, to appreciate the sharp curves of Nori’s lean muscle and the copper dusting of hair all over his body, but Bofur can’t bring himself to feel very bad about it. Nori sleeps on, utterly oblivious to the world, fucked out beyond consciousness. 

Eventually Bofur crawls into the bed, tugging the furs and blankets over the both of them and settling onto his stomach, one arm thrown over Nori’s chest.

“Sleep well, love,” he murmurs, and yawns hugely before slowly dozing off.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr!](http://donytello.tumblr.com)


End file.
